


Bizarre Birdsday

by TaojatFanworks



Category: A Hat in Time (Video Game)
Genre: Body Swap, Gen, M/M, i hope you motherpeckers enjoy, this started as a simple goof
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-01-28
Updated: 2020-01-28
Packaged: 2021-02-27 11:34:23
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,234
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22446475
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TaojatFanworks/pseuds/TaojatFanworks
Summary: You ever just start writing a whole ass fic just to write down a bunch of goofs? Well that's what this is.Thanks to some Time Piece chicanery, the Conductor and DJ Grooves have swapped bodies. Will their inability to cooperate ever tear Dead Bird Studios apart? ...probably.
Relationships: The Conductor/DJ Grooves (A Hat in Time)
Comments: 5
Kudos: 69





	Bizarre Birdsday

A throbbing headache greeted DJ Grooves as he came to. He was lying face down on the pavement in the parking lot just outside Dead Bird Studios, just as he had been when he'd gotten locked in a verbal sparring match with the Conductor before something crashed into his skull.

He sat up and rubbed the sore spot on his head...and he realized there was a hat there. And where did his hair go…?

He realized his raised arm was covered with a black sleeve. He lowered his flipper to find it was...not a flipper. It was yellow and talon-like.

_ Oh no… _

He looked past his new hand and saw...himself, also just now getting up from unconsciousness.

_ Oh no, no no no no… _

He began to panic while patting his face. The feathery ears...the hat...the  _ teeth… _

"Och…whu-?!" The Grooves-alike said. He had his standard, smooth timbre, but with a gross accent transposed over it like a bad Instabird filter. He seemed to pick up on the dissonance, too, because his flipper immediately shot to his throat. He then used the flipper to remove the star sunglasses that had been cracked by some sort of impact. He stared in shocked anger at the actual Grooves. "Y...yer me -! An'...an'..."

"...you're me…" he weakly pointed his-the Conductor's…?-finger at the other bird before dropping his arm. After another dumbfounded second, he got up and briefly made sure he had a sense of balance. It was unusual to have a low center of gravity for once.

The Conductor-now in the body of a penguin-was having much more trouble. He kept trying to quickly get up, forgetting about the platform shoes, and falling back on his face. Despite the confusing, stressful situation, Grooves couldn't help but giggle at his misfortune.

"SHUT THE PECK UP! Et's not my fault I'm dressed like a circus clown on stilts!"

Grooves offered a hand to his fellow body-swapped bird, who grunted before taking it to help finally stand up. He dusted off the red jacket and looked around to see if anyone was watching. Luckily, the parking lot was oddly deserted.

"What could have happened to cause...this?" Grooves said while gesturing at his new gently-used Conductor body.

"Ah dunno, probably somethin' to do with that thing," Conductor pointed at a swirling magenta ball of energy humming with power floating just a few feet away from them up in the air.

"Oh, dear…" Grooves rubbed the back of his neck. "That's one of those things those alien girls usually take care of, isn't it?"

“Disnae mean we can’t take care of it ourselves!” The Conductor took one very clumsy step forward before the other bird grabbed his sleeve.

“Woah now, darling.” He nearly shuddered with how foreign his own voice sounded. “You are  _ not _ going in there with my body when you barely know how to  _ walk _ in it.”

“Well, why don’t you go in, then? I can live with a couple bruises.”

Grooves sighed and looked back up at the purple Time Rift. “I appreciate the confidence that I’d only come out with bruises, but I can’t say I share it. Those girls are much more experienced than either of us at this...time...stuff,” he gestured widely.

“Wha, are ye  _ scared _ ?”

“... _ Yes _ ! Don’t you remember all the other stuff that happened? How easy it is for timespace to go haywire?!”

“Ah suppose yer right...and we know the lasses can beat the shite outta ye, so they have that over you…” Grooves crossed his arms and looked away for a moment. He did get his ass handed to him by two children, which wasn’t exactly a great thing for his self-esteem.

“Okay. So we’re going to get ahold of them and get them to help fix this before it’s too late.”

“Got it. I have a way to call on ‘em.” Carefully, he took some steps toward the entrance of Dead Bird Studios. Predictably, Grooves did not have nearly as much trouble. He gave his rival a smug look and reached out a hand to him.

“Do you need some help, darling?”

Conductor blushed angrily and slapped away the hand that was no longer his. 

~~~

Grooves held the speaker of the antique phone to his ear with nervous anticipation.

“ _Your call has been forwarded to an automatic voice messaging system-_ ”  
“AARGH,” he slammed the phone back down into its slot and buried his head in his hands. After a moment, he reached to pick it back up and begin dialing. “Surely, the sixth time will prove useful-”

“Ye really think so?” Conductor snarked, sitting at the desk in his office trying to get comfortable enough to cross his legs with those god damned shoes. The broken sunglasses were laid on the desk, leaving his face bare. “Face it, Grooves. The lasses aren’t comin’ to save us.”

Grooves shifted his weight from foot to foot and started to nibble on his new fingertips.

“Trust me, A’m no happy about this either. Ye think my passengers will respect me lookin’ like you?”

“Oh, what do we do...I can’t finish my movie like this…” he began to pace. “Surely, the kids are just busy, right? They’ll get back to us?”

“Ah hope so. We just can’t keep waiting before we do anythin’. If worse comes to worse, we could just admit we got switcherooed-”  
“NO,” Grooves roared, making Conductor jolt in surprise.

“A’right, fine, fine! If ye care so much about still havin’ a penguin run the show.”

“You don’t mean…?”

“Our only other option is tae stay cooped up until the lasses come, or else give that Time Swirlie a try ourselves, which ye made clear you don’t wanna do.”

Groove clutched the sides of his head and took some deep breaths. “It’ll only be for a day...just one day…” One more deep breath, this time in resignation. “I guess I need to practice my Scottish brogue!” He plastered on a fake smile. “Och, aye, lads and lassies! How’s the haggis?”

The Conductor cringed. “Please, fer everyone’s sake...tone it back.”

“Like your American is any better.”

“Bah! That’s what you think.” He shifted out of his seat and grabbed a notepad and a pen. “I dinnae trust you to lay a finger on me train, but if that’s what it’s comin’ down to, I’ll give ye some tips to minimize the damage.” Grooves gave him a deadpan expression. Somehow, he didn’t trust Conductor to know how to minimize train damage.

“So we’re really doing this, huh?”

“We eliminated our other choices already,” Conductor said without breaking eye contact with his notepad, aggressively scribbling down some notes.

Grooves sighed. “Ok. But you need to promise not to shake things up too much. You are now DJ Grooves, as much as that might hurt to hear.”

“Ye need to promise me, too! If I come back to one scratch on my pride an’ joy, I’ll have ye gutted, cured, and turned into jerky.”

“Alright.” He walked over to his rival and extended a hand. “Let’s shake on it.” After some trepidation, the Conductor took it and gave it a firm shake.

For the next 20 minutes or so, the two displaced birds ran through the essentials of each other’s jobs, all while one sentiment hung heavy in the air:  
_This is gonna pecking suck._

**Author's Note:**

> In case it wasn't clear: the voices stay with the bodies, but the accents don't.  
> Have fun trying to imagine that.


End file.
